


where the sidewalk ends

by astralcities, gaymothman



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, F/M, Families of Choice, Friendship, M/M, except really it's summer time they're just teenagers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-28
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2019-05-29 23:18:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15083930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astralcities/pseuds/astralcities, https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaymothman/pseuds/gaymothman
Summary: Along with the heat, summer brings a taste of new adventure. For the petty succulent thief, the wannabe cop, the little detective, the gymnast, her girlfriend, and the police chief’s son, it's excitement, new friends, and sunlight that brings out the best in everyone.For the twins, the lover, the protector, the peacemaker, the (not-so) wordless one, and their lonely new next-door neighbor, it's just where the sidewalk ends.





	where the sidewalk ends

**Author's Note:**

> i’m an ambiance gremlin who can’t write anything without Mood music, so i’m going to be suggesting a few songs for each chapter!  
> for this one:  
> -swingin party by kindness  
> -take a chance on me by abba  
> -the prawn song by superorganism  
> enjoy!
> 
>  
> 
> _enjoy!_

In the town of Faerûn, summer starts sooner than anyone expects it.

For the nice boy up living with his parents up in the Wallwood neighborhood, full of manicured lawns and backyard pools, it’s a time to straighten everything out. He’s going to college in the fall, a good school to get a steady degree and make his family proud. This summer is for packing, for saying goodbye and preparing himself for the life that’s been set out for him. He straightens the collar of his shirt and heads downstairs. It’s almost dinner time, anyway.

For his new next-door neighbor, it’s empty. Everything new, and nothing familiar to fill it with. The house is filled with boxes and dust, and doesn’t feel a mite like home. As her father’s car pulls into the driveway, she sits down on the front step, double knots the laces on her sneakers, and steels herself.

For the boy living a couple of streets over, down by the old park, it’s possibilities. His mother is teaching summer courses at the university, and even if he’s a little boring, the rest of his friends more than make up for him. He glances up from his book to look out his bedroom window and smiles.

For the boy all the way on the other side of town, by the river, it means a lot of responsibility. Working at the carpenter’s part-time, babysitting his neighbor’s grandson, not to mention trying to keep his friends out of trouble. It’s a lot. But he’ll manage, he always does. He gives the basket of his bike a rattle to make sure it’s steady, and then hops on.

For the boy living God-knows-where, not quite within the city’s limits, summer is the same as everything else. He skips school as often as he goes, so it doesn’t carry quite the same weight for him as it does for his friends. It’s nice that it’s warmer out, he decides. People don’t seem so anxious. He shoves a small bag of weed and some rolling papers into his pocket and ducks out through the gap in his fence.

For the twins, in their tiny apartment up by the Brickworks, summer is an escape. There are jobs, sure, and the money problem that’s always looming. But there’s also longer days, and rich friends with parents who are never home. They both intend to stay as far from their apartment for as long as they can. The boy sticks his tongue out as he focuses on his sister’s nails. A cool breeze rustles the laundry line on their balcony.

Summer arrives fast, and by the next morning, it’s settled even quicker.

▷✩◀︎

Sometimes, Magnus Burnsides doesn’t like his friends so much.  _ Sure! _ He thinks.  _ I’ll just abandon this kid I’m getting paid to watch so you can have more pizza rolls, Taako. No problem. _

Not that Angus minds. He doesn’t particularly need a babysitter at age ten, which he reminds Magnus of frequently, and Magnus isn’t the most responsible kid on the block anyway. But, if Magnus were to guess, he’s a little lonely. That’s what getting moved up three grades does to a kid, no matter how brilliant. Fortunately, Magnus has enough personality for six kids, or so every teacher since kindergarten has said on his report card.

So, Magnus finds himself walking back home with half his gig’s pay in cash; he leaves the other ten on the table and tells Angus to save for the mail order detective kit he was staring so intently at, too guilty to take full pay for a half day’s ‘work’. He knows if it were Taako, the money, in addition to Angus’s grandfather’s watches would’ve been pocketed in an instant, which is likely why he, rather than his best friend, had been enlisted for the job.

His ten dollars is down the drain fairly quickly, which is disheartening, but leaves him with two boxes of pizza rolls and a bottle of cheap red nail polish from the local CVS. What can he say? If Taako’s getting food out of their deal, he’s getting his nails done. It’s a fair trade.

When he enters through his screen door (scratched down the center by some animal last week, he’ll have to see if Steven will help him fix it), Taako is already in his living room. He lounges on his torn and overstuffed couch, feet kicked up on the arm as he tears into a slice of white bread straight from the bag.

“You’re early,” Taako mutters around a mouthful of bread, and Magnus busies himself with the microwave.

“Left Angus at home,” Magnus says, thumping the machine twice on its side. The plate doesn’t rotate anymore, and Magnus frowns. Add it to the list.

“Who?”

“The kid I babysit,” Magnus elaborates, despite the fact that Taako has definitely met him before. “You know, he’ll be in high school next year. You’re gonna have to learn his name.”

“Don’t have to learn anybody’s name,” Taako drawls, and devours another slice of bread. It’s a little gross, and a lot foreign coming from him. Magnus briefly wonders if he should ask how Taako’s doing, but figures he’ll hear all about it regardless. “Pass the rolls, Maximus.”

“They’re not done yet!”

“Well give ‘em to me when they are, Matthew!”

Magnus snorts despite himself, and can practically  _ feel _ Taako’s satisfied smirk. “My mom come by?”

“Nah, at work,” Taako says. Magnus doesn’t ask how he knows. Who knows, maybe they cross paths during work hours— the mall’s not that huge.

_ Wait _ . Magnus thinks, and feels the gears turning in his head. “So, you have work later today?” he asks, tries his hardest to keep it from sounding accusatory. When threatened, Taako gets antsy, and Magnus would prefer to keep his cuticles intact.

There’s a startled laugh from over on the couch, and Taako shifts, polyester spilling from a busted seam onto the carpet. “Had!  _ Had _ work, actually,” he says, disdain dripping from his voice. “Got fired for shoplifting.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” Taako extends a slender hand in front of him, examining his chipped electric blue nails with a dissatisfied hum. “Wish I had a clean enough record to contest but let bygones be bygones, right?” he laughs, and though it might be passable as gallows humor to anyone else, Magnus knows better. Knit eyebrows and lilting grimace are nothing like the giddy, confident grin that Taako sports when he’s actually found humor in a situation. Even in stupid ones. Especially, actually.

“So you didn’t actually do it?”

“You kidding? I’m not a fucking idiot. You don’t shoplift from Sephora.” Taako's voice is light, breezy and sarcastic as always, but his lips curl back, and Magnus notices the absence of their typical paint. In fact, he’s sporting a relatively makeup free look, though there are a few stray black smudges around his eyes.

The microwave beeps, and Magnus dumps the steaming food onto two paper plates, heaping some from his plate onto Taako’s. It doesn’t seem like he’s had a great day.

“They can’t fire you without proof,” Magnus says.

“Said they saw me snatch some lipstick on the security cameras. Only a tube, which is why I’m here, and not like—” he waves a hand, and though the gesture is flippant, Magnus can see the anger coursing through him, revealing itself in his jittery limbs and torn nails. Money is… tight for them. Even more so than it is for Magnus’ family. “—Getting sued.” Taako accepts the plate without an acknowledgment, which isn’t unusual even on a good day. “Probably Ash’s fault,” he says with a drawn out sigh, and reclines into the pillows. “They've fucking hated me since I recorded them licking lip-balm.” Taako huffs. “But, like, who does that? Hello,  _ poverty child _ on the line, and you don’t catch  _ me _ eating makeup.”

“Don’t knock it!”

There’s a beat of silence as Taako sits up, aghast, and Magnus’s nose wrinkles with the effort of holding in a jab about what a wreck he is. Hair matted, last bits of makeup smudged, pizza sauce on his cheek, Taako wouldn’t be caught dead like this anywhere else. It’s oddly satisfying to have the privilege, even if Magnus would absolutely love to abuse it right now.

“What?” Taako shakes his head. “Wait,  _ what? _ No, seriously, you—” his eyes widen, and Magnus suppresses a laugh. “You  _ don’t _ , tell me you don’t,” he pleads, and clutches to Magnus’s arm like a lifeline.

Magnus definitely doesn’t, but it’s very rare and very  _ fun _ to tease Taako. Especially because it’s usually  _ him _ on the receiving end. Taako flops back with a gasp, and Magnus smacks his lips with as much grotesque noise as he can manage, and wins an ugly cackle for his efforts.

“Toss it to me, Mags,” Taako says a few minutes later, breaking the comfortable silence they’ve lapsed into. Without turning, he extends a hand in Magnus’s direction.

“I didn’t get any more—“

“ _ No _ ,” Taako intercepts, and turns towards him for what Magnus assumes is the sole purpose of having him see his eye-roll. “The nail polish.”

A grin breaks out across Magnus’s face, and he’s immediately treated to another annoyed eye-roll. Magnus scoots closer to his terrible, awful, narcissist of a friend whom he adores and offers his hand. Though Taako tosses his dyed blond locks, and berates Magnus over the state of his cuticles, his nails are soon covered in strokes of gaudy red.

By the time Taako is finished, and Magnus’s nails are drying on a shred of an old magazine Taako has apparently exhausted the contents of, he’s pretty happy. Early day off, nails done. Really, all a guy can hope for!

Soon enough, the sharp ringing of Magnus’s cell blares from the coffee table, and he moves to grab it, only to be stopped by a hand wrapping around his wrist. “I’ll get it,” Taako says, and tightens his grip around Magnus’s wrist when he attempts to pull away.

“You’ll fuck up your nails,” he insists, and Magnus allows himself to be shoved back on to the cushions.

“ _ Heeeelllo _ ,” Taako grins into the phone. “Faerûn Morgue, you kill ‘em, we grill ‘em, what can I do for you?”

Magnus wonders if the service extends to him, because he’d very much like to curl up into the cushions and never rise. If this is Grandfather McDonald wondering where he went, or Steven asking him to come in, or worse, his  _ mom _ , he’s going to murder Taako himself. He tries to communicate the sentiment with a sharp glare, but Taako flutters his fingers and winks.

“No, sorry,” he continues, stretching away from Magnus’s grappling for his cell. “Magnus can’t come over. He’s cooking— ah, shit. He stabbed himself. He’s bleeding out. Bye now!“

Magnus dives for Taako’s waist and snatches back his phone, though Taako doesn’t put up much of a fight. He only cackles and flops back onto the couch. “I am so, so, sorry—“ Magnus begins, edging a safe distance away just in case.

Davenport’s voice echoes in his ear, and Magnus breathes a sigh of relief. Someone who’s  _ used _ to Taako’s antics, thankfully.  “It’s… fine?” he responds, amusement evident in his tone. “I— Why do you keep letting Taako answer your phone?”

Magnus fumbles with the tiny buttons, careful to avoid using his nails, and sets the device to speaker. Taako slinks to his side and drapes himself across his back, smirking even when Magnus elbows him in response. “My nails are wet!” he protests.

There’s a beat of silence from across the line, and when Davenport’s voice returns, there’s a hint of a smile in it. “Anyways. My parents have some party to go to tonight. Do you guys want to come over to swim? I already called Merle and Barry, and I assume Taako knows where Lup is?”

“Haven’t seen her,” Taako answers, drumming his nails on Magnus’s shoulder. Though the two are inseparable, he doesn’t appear to be worried.

“Maybe Barry knows, then. I’ll check with him, but either way, you guys have to promise not to be too loud, especially after last time. My parents are going to be upset if we piss off the neighbors again.”

“Got it, got it,” Taako interjects before Magnus can speak. “You still have those jalapeño poppers from last time? Wait, no, don’t answer that. Get them. Ta-ta!”

Davenport laughs, resigned. Magnus can practically hear him shaking his head over the phone.

“Yeah, I— alright, bye, Taako. I’ll see what I can do. Come over when you’re ready.” A beep, and the call is disconnected.

“Well,” Taako begins, disentangling himself from Magnus. “Start flapping those nails, buddy. We’re going swimming.”

▷✩◀︎

It’s the barking that ends up being the final straw.

Lucretia can tolerate the shrieking, wheezy ceiling fan. She’d turn it off, but it’s the only thing keeping this bedroom from turning into a ten-by-fifteen-foot, floral wallpapered dutch oven.

She can tolerate the fact that her parents decided to keep all the dusty, creepy furniture that came with the place. She’d have loved this bedroom when she was about nine and going through an Anne of Green Gables phase. A window seat and creaky floors and old wallpaper. Now the smell of mothballs is giving her a headache.

She can even deal with the fact that the moving company misplaced her boxes, leaving her with no laptop, no books, and not even one of her journals for the next week.

But  _ Jesus Christ _ , the barking. The people next door seem to be having a pool party, and every time one of them jumps in, it sets the dog off. Someone barks back to egg the damn thing on, the dog barks louder, and the cycle repeats. 

Didn’t they see the moving van? Don’t they know the unwritten rules of common courtesy? Don’t they know that there’s a certain point, after a certain number of replays, where Love Will Tear Us Apart starts to become grating?

Lucretia doesn’t want to be here. She hates this house, with its creaky floors and dust. She hates this town, where everything is too hot and too loud, and the teenagers look at her like she’s a space alien. She hates the movers for misplacing her things, and right now, she hates her parents a little, too.

Someone down there shouts, and the dog starts barking again, and in a sudden, mindless burst of impulse, Lucretia grabs an old, painted tin horse that’s sitting on her dresser and  _ hurls _ it out the open window.

Fuck.  _ Fuck _ .

There's a clang as it hits the pavement, and a long silence.

After what feels like an eternity, someone clears their throat.   
  
"Hey! Are you gonna be wanting this back, or is it chill if we keep it?" They call, and fuck, there goes the dog again.

Lucretia can feel her ears go warm. She lets herself slide downwards, out of view of the window, and slumps onto the floor.

“You know, you can’t just pull a giant power move like that and then disappear!”

Lucretia groans softly. Any small bit of pride she might’ve had is slowly crackling out of existence.

There are a few more shouts, but eventually, they seem to go back to whatever it is they were doing.

They do turn down the volume on their speaker, though.

▷✩◀︎

Taako doesn’t know why Davenport would allow his dog within five feet of him. He doesn’t  _ like _ dogs, and they don’t like him. Some sort of instinctive predator-prey deal, though Taako isn’t quite sure which one he is. And currently, there is a dog far too close for him to be enjoying the banana smoothie he snatched from Davenport’s refrigerator, though Magnus seems to be having the time of his life.

The yippy little thing paws at his bare legs, and Taako stumbles back. No, no, no, he is  _ not _ having dirty pawprints on his legs during swimsuit weather, thank you, but no.

At his side, Magnus drops to a crouch and extends his hands palm up, cooing softly. “Bug’s hungry,” he declares after a moment. Taako isn’t quite sure how he’s determined that, but hey, years of having Magnus around has exposed him to far weirder.

“Okay?” Taako asks. “What do you want me to do about it?” Magnus and the dog turn matching eyes on him. Sap. “You’re the hunk of meat here, pal.”

“You have food.” 

“I have— Yes, I do.  _ People _ food. As in, me food. Food I got from Dav, and food I intend to keep.”

“Yeah, from Dav! You have to give him some! It’s his birthright!”

Taako chokes on a laugh. God, Magnus is the best. “You’re a bastard,” he states, and Magnus only shrugs, and looks at him with expectant eyes and a dopey grin.

The smoothie isn’t that good anyway.

Soon enough, the blare of grating indie music drowns out any regretful thoughts about his smoothie or now-former employment. It’s not… Ideal, but it’s  _ something _ , even if that something happens to be shitty sad-boy music that makes Taako feel vaguely like sinking to the bottom of the pool like a rock, or Magnus after raiding Dav’s cupboards. If it was up to  _ him _ , they’d be playing something a little less emo and a little more  _ bop _ , but Barold is the only one with a premium Spotify account. 

Taako stretches out on a poolside lawn chair, too-large sunglasses obscuring his view of Merle waddling around the edge of the pool, the dog barking and snuffling at his pockets. Somehow, Taako doubts anything Merle is carrying in the pockets of his Hawaiian swim shorts is safe for dogs to eat. It barks, and Merle growls back, and then Magnus yips, and suddenly it’s like a fucking dog show in Davenport’s yard, and Taako calls for Barry to turn his music higher to blare it out.

When the metal animal (by the time it hits the pavement it’s far too bent in for Taako to have any idea what it was meant to be) comes falling out of the sky, it’s the funniest thing he’s seen all week. 

Their pool party comes to a screeching halt. None of them are really sure how to respond. Taako cranes his neck to try and get a glimpse of the assailant, but whoever it is seems to have ducked out of sight.

“Hey!” Magnus calls out, likely hoping to goad them into conversation. "Are you gonna be wanting this back, or is it chill if we keep it?"

No response. Dav’s got his head in his hands, but he looks up long enough to motion  _ no _ furiously in Magnus’ direction. 

“You know, you can’t just pull a giant power move like that and then disappear, my man!” Taako adds, trying to hold back a laugh.

After a few moments with no response, he shrugs and goes back to his magazine. Barry, looking more shaken than any of them, turns down the volume on the speaker. Thank god for small blessings, at least.

“Dav,” Magnus says, as he picks the malformed piece of tin up from the asphalt and dusts it off, “If everyone in your neighborhood is  _ that _ much fun, I might have to move in permanently.”

**Author's Note:**

> i’ve been working on a version of this fic since december, but kit helped me air it out and finish it and i’m forever indebted to her.
> 
>  
> 
> _thanks for reading!! i'm really excited to keep this going and introduce more characters. i'm so thrilled to be able to work on this with gaby, she's amazing! please leave a comment if you enjoyed, we love hearing what you have to say!_


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